Chapter Twelve
The Masque of the Red Death Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's Masterpiece A Story Collaboration Written by Kiara Phoenix, Bridgette Montello, Jessica Jean, Sara Dombrowski, Britny Stewart, and Raymee Sullivan Chapter Twelve This chapter is told in the perspective of Raymee Sullivan WARNING: This is an everything-goes fan fiction. Fiction may contain violence, strong language, and sexual themes. You have been forewarned. My mouth tasted like stale plastic. That was the first thought to register in my clouded mind. My tongue felt thick and sticky in my dry mouth, an awful chemical taste lingering on my taste buds. Sort of like when you inhale hair spray through your mouth and you get that nasty bitter taste. Neither the less it was gross. The second thought to pop into my head was that I was sitting. In a chair to be specific. A very uncomfortable, hard chair. Wha...what's going on...? I slowly pried my eyelids open, only to nearly blind myself from the brightness of a fluorescent light. I tried to pull my hand up to shield my eyes but found that I couldn't move. "Wha..." Looking down I found that I had been tied to the chair that I was sitting in. Alarm flooded my senses as I processed this and made a vain attempt the struggle free, but only succeeded in giving myself rope burn from the rope's grainy texture. It was then that I noticed that I was wearing a white gown, sort of like an old-fashioned nightgown. I felt a brief flash of horror. Somebody changed my clothes! Before I could dwell more on the matter I heard that sound again. "Hmm-Hmm-mmmmn, Hmm~" That damnable humming. Taking a deep breath, I slowly lifted my gaze to meet that of my captor. And what a sight he was. Now, without his mask, I could see that the magenta skin that stretched across him form was indeed his own, looking far too real to be any kind of plastic or silicon. His burning bile-colored eyes burned a hole right to my terrified core, looking even more menacing without the mask to hide behind. An unnaturally long grin that threatened to split his face showed off the crooked horrid teeth from before. Even when he was not next to me he towered over me, especially since I was sitting. Panic flooded my senses, every nerve in me screaming to get to safety; but there was none to be found. Not while he was here. I felt my stomach lurch restlessly and for a moment I thought I would be sick. He tilted his head, leering at me. After a moment of staring me down he let out a low chuckle that sent chills like ice down my spine. "Hi baby; you have a nice little nap?" Bravery? Gone. He began taking slow, measured steps towards me, my dread mounting higher and higher with each step he took. Soon he was before me and lowering himself to my level. Heat radiated off of him, kind of like when you stand in front of an open oven, the temperature so high that it makes your eyes sting. Soon tiny rivers of sweat glided down my face and neck, making my hair cling to my skin. He grinned that awful, bone-chilling grin at me again. Another chuckle came from him, shaking me to my very core. "Aw, what's the matter baby? Cat got your tongue?" Any reply I might have had was caught in my throat; completely beaten down by the power of the monstrosity in front of me. I hadn't realized until just then, but despite the heat coming off of him, I was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. I was scared. Oh God I was so scared. Another cheerful hum brought me from my inner turmoil, and he suddenly had a folder in his hands. On the label I could see in clear print: Raymee Sullivan What? Why does he have- "Clowns." The sudden statement made me jerk my head upwards, a humble "Huh?" passing through my chapped lips. The creature before me had a look of amusement on his face as his acidic eyes scanned the contents of the folder. "Clowns. One of your worst fears. Ha, really Ray-Ray? How pathetic; let's see what else you got." I tensed, my eyes going wide. My fears? The bastard was reading about my fears?! "Darkness, enclosed spaces, monsters, being violated-" He paused here scoffing, "Really? Can you girls think of something more original?" he demanded before going back to the file, "Poisonous insects and reptiles, hurricanes, blah blah blah blah!" I yelped as he threw the folder on the ground before fixing me with his burning stare. His eyes were full of disdain and a hint of sadistic glee as he gazed at my trembling form. "You know Ray-Ray, these are all pretty common fears for a young lady like yourself to have, all very boring." Suddenly he leaned in close to my face, making shrink back into my chair with a whimper, hot breath fanning uncomfortably across my face. A grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame formed on his face. "But that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't Raymee? These are things you are afraid of yes, but they aren't the thing you fear the most." His clawed hand reached out and cupped my chin; I was shaking so hard that he actually had to hold my face steady. He leaned his face next to mine, mouth dangerously close to my ear. "What you, Raymee Sullivan, fear the most," he crooned softly into my ear, "is being alone." It was true. Ever since I was little, I hated to be alone. I was often left home alone in my childhood, making me desperately seek companionship in anyone or anything. I just couldn't handle it. A cruel chuckle brought me out of my thoughts. Trying in vain to hide my terror, I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes, "Y-you're wrong..." I croaked, speaking for the first time, "I..I..." The Red Death, as I had come to know him, gently tilted my chin with his dangerous claw and smirked at my fear-glazed eyes. "You are pathetic. You are weak. You tremble at the very thought of being alone, you constantly lean on others for support and strength, but when others turn to lean on you, you collapse like a house of cards. If it weren't for the people in your life you would be nothing..." He leaned even closer to my face until all I could see were those glowing yellow irises, and what I saw in them made my heart stop cold in my chest. There was rage, madness, and sadistic glee in those eyes, yes, but those were emotions I had become used to seeing here. What did throw me off, however...was the utter hate in those demonic eyes. It stole the air from my throat and made me wish I was blind so I would not, could not, be subject to the power, the utter evil, that rolled off him in waves so strong that if the chair had not been holding me, I was sure that I would collapse to the floor in a boneless heap. "...and for the record baby..." He moved like smoke and was behind me. I felt the ropes that binded me become lax and drop to the floor. "Your Granny is as good as dead. You can't even help yourself. What good are you Raymee, who cannot even stand on her own? If anything, you'll just aid herto a quicker end." A horrible jolt went through me and I felt someone pull me to my feet. I didn't even resist when he started pulling to god knows where. I was watching outside my own body. "You are no one. No cares for you. No one will help you, they'll all be busy trying to saved themselves. One of the people you love the most will die tonight because of your weakness." Suddenly I was in front of a dark door. A red, clawed hand rested on the doorknob, and I felt the heat of hell breathe down my neck. "You are alone." And with that I was shoved into a dark room and almost immediatley collided with another body. White blurs surrounded me and I could hear frantic voices shouting from far away. Hands gripped my shoulders and I vaguely registered that one of the girls was trying to talk to me. But I was too far gone to respond or even care. All previous thoughts of emerging from this night victorious had been snuffed out like a candle in the winter wind. There was no way to win this fight. He had every advantage and he would use them to the fullest extent. I knew that now. With only a few words the Red Death had poisoned me with his touch, and it spread through my being like a virus, burning me and tearing me down from the inside out. He had broken me. He had won. We lost. We had lost the moment we recieved our invitations. And now everyone was going to die. Me. Gramma. The others and their loved ones, too. We all were going to die.